GASTON, INDIANA

Ever since the hills and dales of Eastern Ohio were smoothed out into these glacier-scraped flatlands, the scenery has been stunningly monotonous. I’ve realized that I’ve stopped taking pictures, because there is simply nothing worthy of capturing. It’s possible that this is simply a symptom of my route and not the local geography - I’ve been in rural pastures ever since I left New York, and the sameness of it all can be rough on a wandering mind. Despite my earlier adulation, I think every timeworn barn and kitschy lawn ornament could sprout rockets and shoot off into space, never to be seen again, and I wouldn’t have a tear to shed. I’ve had enough.

So here’s a sample for an exercise in empathy. It gets so bad I wish I were a wheat blade. Look at ‘em, juking and jiving all day…